Then something happened the like of which had never been known to them or their progenitors. A blue barreled forty-five flashed from the holster at Blake’s hip, there was a loud report and the knight upon Blake’s right rear lunged head foremost to the ground. Blake turned in his saddle and shot the knight upon his other side between the eyes.
Terrified, the horses of other knights close by, who might have menaced him, bolted, as did the great black that Blake bestrode; but while the American was trying to replace his weapon in its holster and gather the reins in his right hand he leaned to the left and thus forced the horse slowly around toward the direction he wished him to go, Blake’s plan being to cut across the front of the Knights of the Sepulcher and then turn southward toward Nimmr.
He was sure that Gobred and his followers must be close in pursuit, and that it would be but a matter of minutes before he would have Guinalda safe behind a thousand or more knights, any one of whom would lay down his life for her.
But the Knights of the Sepulcher had spread out over a greater front than Blake had anticipated, and now he saw them coming rapidly upon his left and was forced to swerve in a more northerly direction.
Closer and closer they came and once more the American found it necessary to drop his reins and draw his forty-five. One shot sent the horses of the menacing knights rearing and plunging away from the terrifying sound, and it sent the black into a new paroxysm of terror that almost resulted in Blake and the girl being unhorsed.
When the man finally brought the animal again under control the dust cloud that marked the position of the Knights of the Sepulcher was far behind, and close upon Blake’s left was a great forest, whose dark depths offered concealment for the moment at least.
Reining quickly within Sir James drew up and gently lowered Guinalda to the ground. Then he dismounted and tied the black to a tree, for Blake was spent after what he had been through this day since his first entry upon the lists, and the black was spent as well.
He slipped the housing and the heavy saddle from the horse’s back and took the great bit from his mouth, replacing a portion of the housing to serve as a cooler until the horse should be less heated, nor once did he glance at the princess until he had finished caring for his horse.
Then he turned and faced her. She was standing leaning against a tree, looking at him.
“Thou art a brave, sir knight,” she said softly, and then added, arrogantly, “but still a boor.”
Blake smiled, wanly. He was very tired and had no wish to argue.
“I’m sorry to ask you to do it,” he said, ignoring what she had said to him, “but Sir Galahad here will have to be kept moving about a bit until he cools off and I’m too fagged to do it.”
The Princess Guinalda looked at him in wide-eyed amazement. “Ye—ye,” she stammered, “ye mean that I should lead the beast? I, a princess!”
“I can’t do it Guinalda,” replied Blake. “I tell you I’m just about all in, lugging all these skid chains about since sun rise. I guess you’ll have to do it.”
“Have to! Durst thou command, knave?”
“Snap out of it girl!” advised Blake curtly. “I’m responsible for your safety and it may all depend on this horse. Get busy, and do as I tell you! Lead him back and forth slowly.”
There were tears of rage in the eyes of the Princess Guinalda as she prepared to make an angry retort, but there was something in Blake’s eyes that silenced her. She looked at him for a long moment and then turned and walked to the black. Untying the rope that tethered him to the tree she led him slowly to and fro, while Blake sat with his back against a great tree and watched out across the plain for the first sign of pursuit.
But there was no pursuit, for the knights of Nimmr had overtaken the Knights of the Sepulcher and the two forces were engaging in a running fight that was leading them farther and farther away toward the City of the Sepulcher upon the north side of the valley.
Guinalda led the black for half an hour. She led him in silence and in silence Blake sat gazing out across the valley. Presently he turned toward the girl and rose to his feet.
“That’ll be good,” he said, approaching her. “Thank you. I’ll rub him a bit now. I was too exhausted to do it before.”
Without a word she turned the black over to him and with dry leaves he rubbed the animal from muzzle to dock. When he had finished he threw the housing over him again and came and sat down beside the girl.
He let his eyes wander to her profile—to her straight nose, her short upper lip, her haughty chin. “She is beautiful,” thought Blake, “but selfish, arrogant and cruel.” But when she turned her eyes toward him, even though they passed over him as though he had not been there, they seemed to belie all the other evidence against her.
He noticed that her eyes were never quiet. Her glances roved from place to place, but most often into the depths of the wood and upward among the branches of the trees. Once she started and turned suddenly to gaze intently into the forest.
“What is it?” asked Blake.
“Methought something moved within the wood,” she said. “Let us be gone.”
“It is almost dusk,” he replied. “When it is dark we can ride to Nimmr in
